henry bolingbroke

King Richard II has been on the throne since age seven. Now, at age 29, he has developed into a King prone to flattery and self-deception. Unpopular with his subjects, his realm is rife with anti-Ricardian factions and breakouts of Irish rebels. Richard's uncle Gloucester is particularly unsupportive of the King.

The play begins and ends with a murder. The first murder, the brief assassination of Gloucester - at Richard's behest - by Thomas Mowbray, sets off the action of the rest of the play. Gloucester's death leaves behind several things: a kingdom without any vocal opponents, a court full of instability and mistrust, and a widow who vows revenge. Richard's first cousin Henry Bolingbroke boldly and correctly accuses Mowbray of the assasination of Gloucester, to which Richard responds by banishing both men from the realm. This rids him of two problems: Mowbray is no longer available to reveal Richard's hand in the plot, and the popular Henry Bolingbroke is no longer available to continue his winning streak in the hearts of the people. What Richard does not count on, however, is the immediate return of both men: Bolingbroke with an army to depose the King, and Mowbray in several disguises intended to disburse Richard's army and revenge his mistreatment. Along the way we meet Bolingbroke's father, John of Gaunt, who understands the fragility of power and foresees the fall of the King. His words echo throughout the play. The Duke of York, Gaunt's brother and Richard's uncle, aligns himself with whomever holds the political upper hand. His son Aumerle, Richard's only faithful supporter, demonstrates his willingness to remain loyal to the King at any cost. And Richard's Queen, kept from any pertinent information, is forced to rely on the gossip of gardeners and her own intuition.

Written around 1595, Richard II has long been seen as a political treatise, particularly in an Elizabethan light. The infamous performance of 7 February 1601, when supporters of the Earl of Essex staged the play as a revolt against Queen Elizabeth, is a notorious example of the power of Shakespeare's suggestion. This play, the birthplace of the Wars of the Roses, takes us beyond action and consequence to a place most of us are uncomfortable to acknowledge: the place where we must decide when, how, and whether to forgive.

In adapting this play I was less concerned with political machinations as I was in the individuals behind them. In fact, I have contended all along that this play is a love story. Certainly not in the traditional sense; no one emotes from a balcony, no one swims the Hellespont, no old ladies drop diamonds off ships, but in a more realistic sense. This is a play, immaculately worded, about relationships. A play which asks several questions about the family, the career, and the question of moral character. A true love story, where characters take each other for granted until it's too late, a song or a kind word have ultimate meaning, and banishment from a parent hurts worse than banishment from a country.

In that same light, I would like to briefly thank my incredible partner and wife Lisa and my little boys Miles and Owen, who dropped everything and moved to England so Dad could study Shakespeare. They have taught me more about love, kindness, and forgiveness than any play ever could.

christopher clark